Our times are dark as the midnight hour, when all must unmask

Candles lined your thoughts

In the crafted soot of your inner mirrors

The things you would not allow yourself to see

Not for some fear of depth but more for mere pleasantry

The sparkle in your eye

Rose with a dark red resolution to the meniscus

And formed divergent ripples on your surface

Some profound sadness bursting in the transitional moment

And settling in a cool rosé smoke

Through which shone bright like a diamond in the rough

The bitter desert sun

A perpetual calling in your dry psychology

The mirage of sweet wine

And candlelit blackness

A contemporary denim torn for your machismo indulgence

The façade of grace an infinitesimal point to flock toward

Journey ever on

She begged you to leave behind the desert of reality

Where apathy was your cloak

And enter the mirage of life where emotion held no ground

And all was truth in reasoned eyes

Your ripples are your salvation said the pond

They speak to the depths of your solitude

They beg you to come back

Over a glass of Spanish fine

Slate your bitter smile with each caress of the stem

The midnight river was the tears you refused to cry

You needed the bitter remedy to make sense of your porous heart

Always filling your glass with devotion

So long as there was nothing left for you

The administration of freedom your box

Mechanisms to harness your spirit

To the branded thoroughbred

Spin your mane with the finest yarns

Just to keep the warmth in

And how is it these poet’s sleeves are filled

With fine holes of considerable depth

Yet all that matters is the imaginary number

Dancing through your mind at the end of the day?

And even that is meaningless as you slip into a waking slumber

A dreamer in the veil of life you carry on

A frugal spirit carving beauty out of nothing

To find a home for thoughts like blooming flowers

That would perish in the structure of the mirage

For lack of timely watering

Yet free to blossom the desert

Even as the valley of death is yawning

And the stems are sulking in the shadows

Bereft of any poignant sadness to softly mumble on the wind

In hopes the soul of the world would take note

And bring your spirit back to Him

The poetry dried in your mouth

Kneeling prostrate for the judgment of your rhetorical soul

The answer was becoming

You were nothing more than your thoughts

Than your dreams this desert high

Your reality was a mirage you’d found it proper to deny

And because there was something more

Something in the way that could not be defined

But pined nonetheless for you

Whenever you closed the door

And the whimpering of that spirit kept you in the sky

No matter what desert you were crossing

And why should it abandon you now?


Sift sift sift your soul

Gently through the sand

Consistently, peacefully, methodically, patiently

For somewhere in the desert

On a wild gypsy night

A mirage will rise before you

Your hearts will mend the stars

And love will fill your sky with an ancient lullaby

Peace will be your sands in the arid land of souls

And silver flowers will blossom

From the earthen rains that visit

Upon the yawning valley of death

That lies deep in the middle of darkness

No there’s no light in the darkest of your furthest reaches

The sun will rise again